Post by Shirou Karasu on Feb 17, 2018 14:42:26 GMT -5
A single, small, rubber ball that bounced across a room proved challenging enough to keep track of on its own. With concerted effort, and the right angle, the human eye could keep up with it. The more you added, however, the more difficult the task became. In many ways, this reflected how Shirou felt about keeping track of the dangerous, powerful elements in the Gotei Five. Countless individuals moved and changed constantly. Fresh faces emerged whiles older ones fell into obscurity—like the young Captain of the Second.
For a man who so flippantly disregarded the law for his own enjoyment and curiosity, knowing these people was critical. Until now, until the Zanpakutō-rusting plague reduced their numbers to a fraction of what they were, it was also nearly impossible.
One of the people Shirou discovered, a member of Second who possessed power far beyond average, was Saya. A lovely—in his experienced opinion—brunette with bright eyes and a bright future, if she kept going in the right direction. Sometime during her career in Second, and made worse by the plague, something stopped her. Shirou never realized this, not until he caught wind of her name in a list of Division transfers. The memos were much smaller than a few years back—naturally—and the name Saya caught his attention for the first time since the plague began.
She moved to the Fifth Division.
Individuals as driven and idealistic as Saya seemed to be, from what little he looked into her, never left Second for Fifth for good reasons. Now, Shirou realized, he never heard about any further promotions out of the woman for a reason. One thing led to another and whatever spark she once had now laid buried by an avalanche many years old. Maybe she lost someone, maybe the futility of fighting the plague caught up to her, maybe something before that, maybe a combination.
Truthfully, Shirou never really cared why. After a shift in the labs of the Fourth, doing work for the first time in years not associated with the plague, he made his way out into the city. He snaked through the streets of the white-stone metropolis, now overrun with cracks, decay, and even weeds that sprouted up from the soil beneath in those particularly forgotten alleys. As he crossed into the Fifth Division proper, entire training fields stood overrun with greenery, unkempt trees, cracked walls, partially-collapsed overhangs, and dislodged floorboards.
Many people over the years described the transformations as eerie. Shirou never once figured out how they felt that way. It barely registered to him, like details in a distant, far-off fictional world that had no impact on real life.
When he finally found her, it was on the very street he walked. She rounded a corner in front of him and, immediately, he could feel the emptiness rolling off her. She seemed like she tried to keep up appearances, but behind her eyes he could see the heavy, dark bags of futility and exhaustion that she refused to let show.
He expected to find her in one of the few still-used training dojos, but, instead, it looked like she already planned to head home for the evening. The sun still hung, bright and yellow, in the sky; yet she looked like it was past midnight for her.
Shirou pushed his dark-blue hair back into place as he saw her, and a bright smile stretched his lips apart. He felt none of the weariness she looked to have hoisted up onto her back.
“Saya, right?” Shirou asked as he walked up to her and, habitually, offered a hand. “My name’s Shirou, I’m from the Fourth Division. Do you have a moment to talk about a mission I’m proposing? I’m interested in having you as part of the team.”
A bit wordy of an introduction, Shirou realized. At the same time, if his estimations proved even somewhat accurate, that would grab her attention the most.
*****
661 Words
For a man who so flippantly disregarded the law for his own enjoyment and curiosity, knowing these people was critical. Until now, until the Zanpakutō-rusting plague reduced their numbers to a fraction of what they were, it was also nearly impossible.
One of the people Shirou discovered, a member of Second who possessed power far beyond average, was Saya. A lovely—in his experienced opinion—brunette with bright eyes and a bright future, if she kept going in the right direction. Sometime during her career in Second, and made worse by the plague, something stopped her. Shirou never realized this, not until he caught wind of her name in a list of Division transfers. The memos were much smaller than a few years back—naturally—and the name Saya caught his attention for the first time since the plague began.
She moved to the Fifth Division.
Individuals as driven and idealistic as Saya seemed to be, from what little he looked into her, never left Second for Fifth for good reasons. Now, Shirou realized, he never heard about any further promotions out of the woman for a reason. One thing led to another and whatever spark she once had now laid buried by an avalanche many years old. Maybe she lost someone, maybe the futility of fighting the plague caught up to her, maybe something before that, maybe a combination.
Truthfully, Shirou never really cared why. After a shift in the labs of the Fourth, doing work for the first time in years not associated with the plague, he made his way out into the city. He snaked through the streets of the white-stone metropolis, now overrun with cracks, decay, and even weeds that sprouted up from the soil beneath in those particularly forgotten alleys. As he crossed into the Fifth Division proper, entire training fields stood overrun with greenery, unkempt trees, cracked walls, partially-collapsed overhangs, and dislodged floorboards.
Many people over the years described the transformations as eerie. Shirou never once figured out how they felt that way. It barely registered to him, like details in a distant, far-off fictional world that had no impact on real life.
When he finally found her, it was on the very street he walked. She rounded a corner in front of him and, immediately, he could feel the emptiness rolling off her. She seemed like she tried to keep up appearances, but behind her eyes he could see the heavy, dark bags of futility and exhaustion that she refused to let show.
He expected to find her in one of the few still-used training dojos, but, instead, it looked like she already planned to head home for the evening. The sun still hung, bright and yellow, in the sky; yet she looked like it was past midnight for her.
Shirou pushed his dark-blue hair back into place as he saw her, and a bright smile stretched his lips apart. He felt none of the weariness she looked to have hoisted up onto her back.
“Saya, right?” Shirou asked as he walked up to her and, habitually, offered a hand. “My name’s Shirou, I’m from the Fourth Division. Do you have a moment to talk about a mission I’m proposing? I’m interested in having you as part of the team.”
A bit wordy of an introduction, Shirou realized. At the same time, if his estimations proved even somewhat accurate, that would grab her attention the most.
*****
661 Words
